Dramione
by thececil
Summary: This FF is written from Draco Malfoy's point of view, but offers a very different side to him. Will he be able to be with Hermione, or will the conflict between Gryffindor and Slytherin be too much to bear?
1. Draco's Views

The hottest day of the year was beginning to end, sending a restless silence over the huge manor that inhabited the extremely large amount of land in front of the teenager. The lawns were pristine; as green as a traffic light, the grass stood up unnaturally straight and every blade was exactly the same height as the next. No animals lurked in front of this house, for peril would meet those who dared. Rumours snuck around the village of the secrets inside this ancient residence, the dark artefacts and the dark people living inside it.

The boys slick blonde hair gleamed in the sunset, making it appear almost white. His posture was slack, but his clothes were not; a crisp black suit with shoes that shone abnormally decorated his elegant frame, but alas his posture was hunched and drawn.

He stood still, his face hidden by the shadows, and withdrew his hands from his pockets. From within the pockets the boy pulled out a slender stick of hawthorn, and twiddled it between his pale fingers. He took a deep breath and began to walk towards the 20 foot wrought iron gates that surrounded the manor; they melted at his touch and he walked straight through them, down the pebble path encircled by thick green hedges.

The pebbles led him to the manor and to a huge wooden door with a crest on it. When the boy put his hand on the crest, the doorknob too melted, and he pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

The floors were ornate and black- adding to the ghostly atmosphere in the room. The entrance hall to the Malfoy Manor was dimly lit, dusty and had many portraits of lost ancestors. The many cabinets littering the walls had blacked out windows, leaving visitors wondering what objects lurked inside. Vases had been placed along many cabinets but the flowers inside them had long died- it looked as if no-one had bothered to tidy for a long time. Lots of doors were fitted along the walls and each looked as if they lead to mysterious and dangerous places.

The boy walked smartly to the heavy doors to his right and pushed them open, only to be greeted by a suffocating hug.

'Draco, where have you been?' The woman screeched, engulfing her son and showering him in kisses. She was a petite woman, but strongly built, with black and white streaked hair.

'Mother!' Draco pushed his mother aside and brushed a stray hair from his suit. 'Please, I like my own personal space every once in a while.'

'I'm sorry darling,' Narcissa Malfoy stepped gingerly to the low armchairs by the crackling fire, and sank into one wearily. 'I was just worried-'

'Well you don't have to be!' Draco snarled, whirling around and, ignoring his mother's pleas, stormed out of the sitting room.

He raged up the sweeping staircase and along the long carpeted corridor to his room. His door opened with a bang before he even got there, and shut when he entered. Still clutching the stick of wood, red sparks were being spat from the tip in anger. Draco remembered the first day he got his wand; the first day he felt like a true wizard.

On his eleventh birthday, Draco and his mother and father had travelled to the little wizarding village called Diagon Alley. This was one of the only villages in Britain where wizards could roam freely without fear of being spotted by Muggles. They cut through the crowd like a knife in soft butter and made their way to the wand shop, Ollivanders. The shop was full to the brim with boxes, stacked on top of each other in a multitude of shelves. A small, watery eyed little man stepped through one of the musty aisles towards the Malfoys and gave a little bow. He was dressed quite scruffily, and sported many holes in his shoes. For some reason, Draco felt very smartly dressed compared to the man that was bowed before him.

'Ah, the Malfoys. Always a pleasure, of course, always. What can I do for you Lucius?'

Draco's father stepped into the light.

'It is my son, Draco's birthday today. I ought to ensure that he gets the best wand for when he starts school at Hogwarts in September, and decided that my wand has done me well for all these years, and so my son should purchase his wand too from the very same shop as I.'

'Very well' breathed Ollivander. 'I shall see to it.'

He stepped down another musty aisle and retrieved a long, thin box, very much like the others. Ollivander returned and laid the box on his cluttered desk, and very carefully opened it. Inside sat a wand, of around ten inches in length.

'Hawthorn. Ten inches, slightly flexible, a single hair from a male unicorn inside.' Ollivander smiled. 'Well, give it a wave!'

Draco nervously picked up the wand. Instantly, warmth spread through his fingers and gold sparks shot from the end. He looked up at his mother and father, who smiled reassuringly, and twiddled it in his hands. He had never felt so sure that something fitted him, that something was so right for him.

Ollivander laughed quietly, and said 'I remember every purchase from this shop Mr Malfoy, every one. And every single one makes me smile; to see the look on those young wizards faces is a picture that brings joy to many people.'

'Yes well, as touching as that story is Mr Ollivander, we must hurry along.' Lucius placed seven gold galleons onto the desk, and turned to leave. Draco followed his father and mother out of the shop and onto the pavement. He felt the warmth of his wand in his hand, and felt as if he could do anything in the world.


	2. Problems

Draco leant back onto his bed covers. The memory of his birthday stirred something deep inside of him, a longing to be back where he truly belonged. He surveyed his room - two enormous wardrobes stood like guards on either side of his doorframe, and a fading green rug lay on the wooden floor. His silver walls were bare except for the family photos dotted here and there, and there was an ancient bedside cabinet with which was cluttered with quills and rolls of parchment. It was here that Draco did most of his thinking: It was here where Draco missed Hogwarts.

For a long time now Draco had been longing to be back at Hogwarts, his magical school. He truly felt at home, with Crabbe and Goyle for his companions and everyone in the Slytherin house adoring him. His father was very prestigious in the Ministry of Magic, and this gave Draco power above many others.

But what Draco was missing was not his power, his companions or even his school. He was missing the evenings spent in the library, the times in the Great Hall, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. He missed watching her tuck a lock of curly hair behind her ear, he missed hearing her laugh, and he missed her enthusiasm for every subject. He loved to watch her; it made him smile to see the certain way she would do things. He adored the way she held her books to her chest, found her witty remarks quick and off the mark, and longed to see her. Draco missed Hermione Granger.

Hermione was a Gryffindor student, and a highly intelligent one at that. The story of the four houses, the other two being Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, was well known, as was the hatred between Slytherin and Gryffindor. For many years now sneers had been exchanged between the two houses, harsh comments had been stated and duels had broken out among wizards.

Draco could not shake the feeling that this was slowly not becoming the case. He found himself smiling when he saw her in the corridor; jealousy bubbling up inside him every time she hugged someone else. When she raised her hand he often began to wish for her to be picked just to hear her voice, and he discovered himself staring at her unnaturally. Hermione was bringing out the nicer side of Draco, and it was a side he was not used to.

He sighed, and looked longingly at his suitcase. Tomorrow he would be leaving for the Hogwarts Express; the train to transport him and his fellow students to the castle that would become their home for the next year until summer arrived again. Draco was greatly looking forward to snatching glances of Hermione, and maybe even mustering up the courage to be nice to her.

The clock beside him said 22:58. He wished he was still outside, trying to think of a way to communicate with Hermione without it seeming suspicious or irrational. The first Hogsmeade trip of the year was two weeks into the term; Draco had decided he was to begin to make his moves then or very soon beforehand. His heart thumped at the thought of Hermione rejecting him, and his eyes watered. He must not weaken now, or his father would know, and he would be mocked.

Draco turned on his side. The clock now said 23:01. He sighed, and got out of bed. He began to undress from his suit into his black pyjamas. Padding to the light switch, he turned out the lights.

The moment he got into bed, he fell into a deep sleep. Instantly, he was riding on his broom. The wind was whistling through his hair and he was looking, searching for something in the murky waters of the Themes below. A flash of gold rushed by him, and he was tearing off, after the snitch, only it wasn't the snitch; it had transformed into Hermione. He sped up and rode beside her. She laughed, and slipped as she did so, almost falling off her broom. Draco caught her, and slid her onto his broom effortlessly. She wound her arms round his waist and they soared high, high into the night sky and...

'DRACO!' his father hissed from the doorway. Draco shot up, immediately feeling guilty of the dream that had haunted his thoughts all night long. 'Get up! Train leaves in two hours, and we are leaving in an hour and a half.'

He lay in bed for a few minutes, contemplating his feelings about the dream and what lay ahead in the course of the day.

Draco dressed quickly, into smart black jeans and a shirt. Smelling toast, he walked down the extensive staircase and into the kitchen. His mother and father were sat at the vast table in the middle of the large room and their cook was preparing everything from muffins to eggs on toast.

Draco took a slice of toast from the rack in the middle of the dull brown table and ate silently, as his father read 'The Daily Prophet'; the wizarding newspaper, in which pictures moved, headlines changed and rumours flew. The look on his father's face was one of disgust; Draco's first thought was that the main story was about Harry Potter, the wizarding celebrity that was the only known person to have survived the killing curse, but it was about allowing purebloods to have children with half-bloods or people with a lower ranking blood status.

'Disgusting!' Lucius sneered. 'Filthy, we purebloods should keep our family tree pruned and precise. We must not let these mudbloods interfere with our pureness!'

'Absolutely right' Draco's mother, Narcissa, said. 'If we let them intermingle with us, who knows what the population of the wizarding world would be like?'

Lucius nodded, and sipped his coffee. 'What do you think Draco?'

'Err, yeah... Immunity and all that...' Draco shifted in his chair, half of his slice of toast now lying cold in front of him. 'I have to pack; I'll eat on the train mother.'

He left the kitchen, his hopes now in tatters. How would he ever be able to tell them that he was in love with a muggle-born Gryffindor?


	3. Death Eaters Invade

The faint click of the wheels of the trolley holding Draco's trunk and possessions followed him along the platform. Muggles passed in a daze, but still the Malfoys made a clear path throughout the throng of people. They arrived at the gateway to the Hogwarts express, a wall between platforms nine and ten, leading to platform 9 and 3/4.

As they neared the barrier, Draco caught a whiff of perfume. This enticed him, and he automatically turned in the direction of the smell. There, about 3 feet away from him, was the Weasley family, clearly distinguishable by their trademark ginger hair. They were considered blood traitors by people like Draco's father and his companions. Being a blood traitor was almost as bad as being a mudblood, despite the fact that the Weasleys were one of the last pureblood families left. They stood also with the famous Harry Potter, who Draco actively disliked, and Hermione, with which Draco's heart skipped a beat.

Draco felt his father's hand grip his shoulder tightly and he allowed himself to be frog-marched through the barrier and away from the Weasleys. As Lucius and Draco leant against the wall and slid into the world where platform 9 and ¾ was situated, he thought he saw a glimpse of Hermione smiling in his direction. He smiled to himself, cherishing the moment.

It was 6 minutes to eleven, and the train left on the dot. Draco made his way towards the doors of the train, and deposited his trunk and belongings with all the other Slytherin things. His mother and father stood rigid on the platform, staring at Draco with emotionally drained faces. Draco walked towards them, and gave his mother a stiff hug.

'I'll be home for Christmas mother, and I have more than enough money for the cart of food on the train!'

Narcissa nodded, and looked at Lucius. He held out his hand towards his son, and Draco took it. In the distance, he could hear the Weasleys boarding the train. He ended the handshake with his father swiftly, said goodbye, and clambered on the train. Immediately the whistle blew, signalling the last minute before the train left. Students rushed aboard and began waving to their families through the open windows of the compartments.

With an almighty shudder, the train began to move forward and wind out of sight of the platform. Some children on the platform playfully ran after the train as it wound around the bend, and within seconds the platform had completely disappeared. Draco decided to find a compartment, and was lucky to find one that was empty. He settled himself and began thinking of the long journey ahead.

Suddenly, he heard the compartment door slide open, revealing a girl with puffy, red eyes and curly brown hair.

'Sorry to bother you' Hermione said, 'But I've had a bit of an argument with the people in my compartment. Do you mind if I sit with you?'

Draco almost pinched himself. He couldn't believe his luck; the girl he was in love with asking to sit with him! It was a dream come true.

'Of course!' Draco replied almost hurriedly, so that Hermione looked slightly suspicious but took a seat opposite him and closed the compartment door. 'Are you okay?'

'What does it matter to you?' Hermione looked surprised, and her mouth lay open slightly in shock.

'It doesn't? But I like to know the gossip you know?' Draco grinned, but Hermione didn't look impressed. In fact, she looked even more miserable than ever.

To Draco's surprise, she began to cry. He did not know what to do with himself then, and awkwardly patted her back. She began telling the story to him.

'Ron keeps going on about his new girlfriend L-L-Luna, and he doesn't see how upset it m-makes me, he doesn't know how much I've longed for a boyfriend t-t-too and he keeps detailing their relationship, over and o-over again. I hexed him and run out crying and came here as it was the emptiest compartment.'

Draco shifted seats and positioned himself next to Hermione. She began to sob harder, and he put his arm around her. Rather than sounding surprised, she leant into him and began to cry even more, so Draco leant his head on top of hers. For a while they stayed like that, Draco watching the scenery change through the window and Hermione's sobs gradually getting quieter.

When her sobs finally subsided, she sat up and wiped her eyes. 'God, I'm such a pathetic mess!' she laughed, straightening her hair.

'You're really not,' Draco said, and Hermione looked at him quizzically. 'I think you're a rose trying desperately to be a daisy.'

Hermione looked slightly uncomfortable, a lock of hair sweeping in front of her face. Draco brushed it back behind her ear, and she bit her lip. It made her look adorable, and Draco's desire for her increased.

Draco was just about to cup her head in his hands and was halfway through the procedure when he heard a loud bang, screams, and the brakes squealing on the train. He opened the compartment door and saw hooded figures checking every compartment.

'Quickly!' He urged Hermione, taking her hand and squeezing them both into a small space between the compartment and the door. They were pressed very close together; Draco could feel her sweet breath on his face and he held her hand tighter.

They heard the door to the compartment slide open, and a hooded figure entered. Hidden in the shadows, they remained unseen, but the man still looked menacing in his black robes and mask. His face was covered, but you could tell anger and hatred oozed from him. In a flourish of black he disapparated from the compartment, and Draco felt the train moving again underneath his feet.

He looked into Hermione's fearful eyes, and hugged her tight. He could not remember how long they stayed like this, but he liked it. And he had a funny feeling she did too.


	4. Entrance Feast

Draco stepped off of the train on cloud nine. He and Hermione had continued to hug for some time, until they heard people walking past their compartment. They had sat side by side and drawn the shutter on the compartment window. For over an hour, they talked about Ron and Luna and how Hermione could ignore them. Every time Draco looked at her, he had an immense urge to just lean across and kiss her, but he restrained himself, thinking of rejection.

He spotted Crabbe and Goyle, his companions, and together they walked to the carriages that pulled themselves to the castle, with the students riding aboard. Crabbe and Goyle clambered clumsily up onto the carriage, and Draco stepped neatly upwards and sat down on the wooden seats. The journey was bumpy, and the evening sky looked particularly thunderous.

When the carriages pulled up in Hogwarts grounds, Draco made his way towards the huge double doors that lead to the Entrance Hall. Hundreds of students were milling in and Draco found himself pushed near to a bunch of Gryffindor girls.

'Did you see her face?' One exclaimed in a rather high pitched voice, and joined in the laughing with the rest of her friends.

'She looked like a drowned rat, ran past my compartment sniffing and blubbing like there was no tomorrow!' Another said, and smiled to herself at the memory.

'Hermione's definitely got something up' the first said thoughtfully.

Draco immediately realised what they were talking about. He longed to make a snide comment to the girls, but thought it would seem as if he were sticking up for Hermione, which would be highly suspicious.

The doors from the Entrance Hall lead to the Great Hall, where five great tables stood. Four were parallel to each other, and one ran along the end of the four tables. The order of tables was Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and then Slytherin. Draco took his place in-between Crabbe and Pansy Parkinson and turned back to the doors with which he had just entered. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house and deputy headmistress, lead the extremely nervous looking first years towards the space in-between the last table and the four other tables. She placed a stool and an extremely old looking hat upon the stool, and ordered the first years to stand in a group around it.

The hats frayed brim opened wide, and began to sing a song.

'_Oh you may not think me wise_

_But don't judge hats that can talk_

_Just listen to my lyrics_

_And watch me like a hawk_

_France can keep their Beret_

_America their baseball_

_For I'm the Hogwarts sorting hat_

_The smartest of them all_

_There's no deep secret hidden there_

_Buried in your head_

_That I can't see so put me on_

_I'll tell you where you'll tread._

_You may belong in Gryffindor_

_Where the bravest men dwell_

_Their honesty and courage_

_Make Gryffindor do well_

_Or you may belong in Ravenclaw _

_Where intelligence is key_

_Their cleverness and wit_

_Make Ravenclaw gutsy_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are loyal and just_

_Friendship and hardworking_

_Honestly – These are a must_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_Where cunning folk will spire_

_To use any means of force_

_To get what they admire._

_So try me on! Don't be afraid_

_I'll help you on your way_

_To greatness within Hogwarts_

_Through each and every day._

The sorting hat finished its song (which was remarkably similar to a song Draco was sure the hat hand sung before) and lay still. McGonagall took her place next to the stool and began to unroll the slip of parchment with the first year's names on it. 'Aarongold, Ebony' was the first name to be called, and was settled in Hufflepuff along with great cheers. The list was whittled right down to 'Whittaker, Jamie' who was placed in Slytherin following the great cheer that Draco didn't have the heart to join in with.

Professor Dumbledore, their headmaster, rose from his seat at the top table.

'There are certain times for speeches. Now is not one of them. Eat!'

And with Dumbledore's command great silver platters of all the food you could think of materialised in front of them, huge vats of stew, gigantic Yorkshire puddings, pork chops and mounds of mashed potato. Draco poured himself a goblet of iced pumpkin juice and began piling his plate high with all of his favourite things.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the food began to melt away from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean. Dumbledore stood up, and began to speak.

'To our new students; welcome! To our old students; welcome back! Another year packed with adventure, education and magic awaits you. Mr Filch has kindly asked me to remind you that entrance to the Forbidden Forest is prohibited, and additions have been made to the list of banned magical items, including items from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and Zonko's Joke Shop. The full list can be viewed on the door of Mr Filch's office.

'I would like to welcome a new member of staff!' Dumbledore turned to smile at an elderly looking lady several chairs to the right of him. 'Mrs Copping will be taking the post of Defence against the Dark Arts this year.

'I have no doubt that this year will be an eventful one. A memorable year is always guaranteed here at Hogwarts, but for many it is for the wrong reasons. I beg of you to make this year the best year at Hogwarts yet, and to continue this tradition for years to come.

'Those who wish to play for their house Quidditch teams should submit their names to their Head of House who will then pass selected students onto the Quidditch Captain to make the final selection after tryouts. First years are reminded that your own broomsticks are not allowed and so is a place on the Quidditch team. I'm afraid you will have to wait until next year,' Dumbledore gave a crinkled smile, and continued on. 'Now, we have a big day ahead of us for tomorrow, so chop chop! Bed!'

There was much chatter as students got up from their house tables and began to make their way to the Grand Staircase, a series of moving staircases that led to the whole castle. Draco caught sight of Hermione and began to push through the crowd to get to her. Hermione did not see Draco, until he finally caught up with her at the bottom of the staircase. Since Draco's common room was in the dungeons, he had no need to be going up the staircase, and people were giving him odd looks.

He grabbed Hermione's arm and quietly said, 'Meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight, at eleven. Please don't be late.' Draco looked into Hermione's eyes and she nodded, and turned to walk away. He watched her for a while, and then began walking towards the dungeons. He could tell tonight was going to be promising.


	5. Little White Dress

Draco looked at his watch. Ten to eleven. Great, he had exactly ten minutes to sneak up to the seventh floor from the dungeons, a feat that would definitely not be easy.

Tapping himself on the head with his wand, a cold feeling washed down his body, giving him the sensation that somebody had poured a cat of cold water onto his back but he stayed dry.

The disillusionment charm worked perfectly; Draco almost become a chameleon, taking the image of whatever item was behind him so that he was camouflaged beautifully. He sprinted up the dungeon steps, and silently sped across the entrance hall. The shiny floors looked eerie in the night, and it was extremely quiet.

Draco made his way to the Grand Staircase, and rode his way up to the seventh floor, then proceeded to take a right. He followed the corridor down, and checked his watch – 22:56. With four minutes to go, Draco stood outside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls ballet, and paced on the spot three times, thinking hard 'I need somewhere where no-one will find us, I need somewhere she'll love.'

A door appeared; a smart looking door, with a brass handle and shiny black paint. Draco turned the doorknob and opened the door, expecting there to be a room similar to a classroom. Instead, there was a room full of rows and rows of books, stacked high on the shelves. Plush cushions littered the floor and there was a smart fire occupying the space behind the cushions. The far right side of the room was completely covered in beautiful plants, with flowers and aroma's to suit everyone. Tapping his wand once more on the crown of his head, he felt very warm and cosy, having lifted the disillusionment charm. He spotted a rose, and picked it, placing it behind his back.

He heard the door creak, and he whipped round, blushing. Hermione stepped through the doorway, wearing a simple white dress and small heels. She had tied her hair in a knot at the nape of her neck, and a few strands had escaped, framing her face. She looked beautiful; nervous, but beautiful.

Draco took a step towards her and she looked at the floor. He continued to move towards her and she fidgeted a little, looking uncomfortable. Taking her hand, Draco placed the rose in her palm and she looked up to face him. Their faces were inches from each others; he could feel her breath on his face.

Hermione turned away and went to sit on the cushion positioned nearest the fire. She hugged herself and Draco saw her place the rose on the floor. He went and sat on the cushion next to her and she leant her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her.

'We always seem to end up like this,' she said thickly. She sounded as if she had been crying. Draco pulled her even closer, and wound his other arm around her waist. Hermione moved onto his lap, and he began to stroke her hair as she wept silently.

'I look like such a mess!' she exclaimed, and hastily got up from Draco's lap. Wiping her eyes, she looked into the mirror that had suddenly appeared above the fireplace. Draco stood up and positioned himself behind her. Bowing her head, Hermione allowed Draco to take her hand. Draco felt a lift in his mood; he was holding the hand of the girl he had lusted after for so long, the girl he had dreamt about every night.

Slowly, he turned her and pulled her into a tight hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. Hermione wound her hands round Draco's neck, and a jolt pressed through his body. Did she know that she had this effect on him? Did she know that he had dreamt about this moment since the moment he asked her in the entrance hall?

Draco tipped Hermione's chin up so that she was facing him. She was so beautiful, with clear skin and a flawless figure. He longed to run his hands down it, to feel the dip of her stomach and the curve of her hips under his hands. Her deep brown eyes gazed into Draco's own and he felt as if she truly understood him; neither had said a word, and Draco had revealed about as much to Hermione as he had to the caretaker Filch. But somewhere, Draco felt that Hermione understood him.

He felt that she understood the way he felt about his father, the way he had to act as if they had the same views and opinions when really, Draco was deeply and madly in love with the type of person Lucius Malfoy loathed the most. He felt that she understood how difficult he found it to fit in with people, as many people shied away from him, fearing the power he had upon them. But most of all, he felt that she understood how he really wanted to hold her, to be with her and to love her.

'I've had a lot of crooks trying to steal my heart,' Hermione frowned. 'Never really had luck, couldn't ever figure out how to love.'

'I think we can solve that problem'. Draco smiled, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She raised herself up on tiptoes, and softly kissed Draco on the cheek. He blushed, and tried to hide a smile. Hermione laughed.

Placing both hands on the side of his face, she drew him closer to her. Slowly, she kissed her way down from his forehead to the corner of his mouth, and finally found his lips. Draco thought a firework had gone off inside him; he felt extremely happy inside and wished with all his heart that this moment could last forever. He drew her closer, pulling her gently by the waist so that he was holding her upright. Hermione moved her hands down to his chest and, still kissing him, pushed him up against the stone wall behind them.

Draco moved one hand to gather the flyaway hairs around Hermione's face and gently tilted her face up more. Even though she was in small heels, she was on tip-toes to kiss him, and Draco was glad for his height for once, believing that it looked good when the girl was smaller.

Suddenly, Hermione bit his lip, and Draco took an involuntary intake of breath. She was amazing, beautiful, intelligent and so much more.

'I just want you to know... You deserve the best, you're beautiful,' he whispered in-between kisses. 'You're beautiful.'

Hermione pulled away with a gorgeous smile on her face, her hands still holding Draco's face. He wondered what she was thinking; did she know that was his first kiss? Did she have any idea that biting his lip was possibly one of the best things that had ever happened to him?

'What's the time?' She spoke in dulcet tones, which made her seem even more attractive. Draco checked his watch.

'Six minutes past twelve,' he said.

Hermione gasped. 'Oh! I have to go back, I need a good rest before tomorrows lessons!'

'I would suggest walking you back to your dormitory but I doubt that's a good idea.' Draco chuckled, and kissed Hermione longingly again. She broke out of his embrace, and began walking towards the door.

Looking back over her shoulder, she said 'I had a great time tonight. We should do it again sometime.' and left.

Draco was left standing there alone, with the imprint of her lips on his and the memory of her body against his playing in his mind.


	6. First Lessons

As everyone took their seats at the wooden desks, Miss Copping strode purposefully down the aisles of students.

'Miss,' piped up a small, blonde Gryffindor. 'May I ask why you're not a professor, like the other teachers?'

'No' she replied harshly. 'You may not. Sit down and keep quiet. You will learn your place in my classroom.'

As she surveyed the room, Draco noticed her startlingly blue eyes. They were a contrast to her greying hair and leathery looking skin, hinting at youth and prosperity.

'As today is my first lesson with you, I have decided to let you show me what you already know. I can then note down what you excel at, and what you are not so capable with, so we don't have to cover topics that you are already learned in.' She gave a wry smile and almost immediately snapped back to her sincere tone.

'I will list several spells that you should have already covered. One by one, you will come and demonstrate to me the accuracy and knowledge you have around these spells.'

In elegant writing, she began to list down spells on the blackboard. Oddly, she did not use her wand as other teachers preferred to, instead writing the words herself. In total, the list came to around twelve spells.

The whole class was silent as Miss Copping turned back to face them. The gaze that she locked them with was intense, and Draco felt a desire to be controlled by her and do as she pleased. This unnerved him, and he fidgeted in his seat.

As students were called up, they demonstrated one by one the list of spells on the blackboard, and Miss Copping made them write down the desired effect the spell was to have on a piece of paper, to make sure everybody knew why they needed to use that spell.

In total, each individual had to demonstrate:

_- Protego_

_-_ _Expelliarmu_s

- _Incendio_

_- Stupefy_

_-_ _Petrificus Totalus_

_- Levicorpus_

_- Reducto_

_- Obliviate_

_- Impedimenta_

_- Expulso_

_- Bombarda_

_- Confringo_

All too soon, it was Hermione's turn. As usual, she demonstrated each spell with ease and a grace that nobody else seemed to have. Draco watched her with awe and astonishment as she accomplished each spell, then caught himself and tried to look disgusted. Inside, he secretly danced with joy as he remembered the night in the Room of Requirement.

Suddenly, it was Draco's time to demonstrate. Stiffly, he walked to the front of the classroom and began to show Miss Copping each spell, in turn writing down the definition as clearly as he could explain it. He stumbled at Impedimenta and Confringo, as he had never had the need to use them. He discovered that Impedimenta slows down objects, and Confringo caused things to explode, much like Reducto but suitably more violent. Draco liked this spell a lot.

As he made his way back to his seat, he caught Hermione's eye. Immediately she began to turn pink, so he averted his eyes so as not to cause a scene. He saw Potter raise an eyebrow at Hermione's sudden outburst of colour, but he kept quiet. Draco silently thanked him for having at least a single brain cell.

Pansy's turn came, and she stared at Draco throughout the duration. This made him uncomfortable, and also caused her to stumble on her spell casting. She cast Protego too soon and suffered a minor cut from being knocked into a desk from the Stupefy curse she was meant to be deflecting. Almost immediately she coloured with embarrassment as she continued on, her eyes boring into Draco's skull, unintentionally interrogating every inch of him.

When her demonstration was done, Potter was up. Not really watching, Draco gazed in the general direction of Potter, mainly to avoid Pansy's insisting stare. He didn't like the way she looked at him as if she wanted to eat him for breakfast, and he certainly didn't feel the same way about her as she made out she did about him. One of the things that put him off was how pointedly obvious she made her feelings out to be, causing Draco to just want to hurl in the nearest available bucket.

At last, once the final person had demonstrated, the class were allowed to leave. Draco felt an inward sigh of relief as he quickly scribbled a note to Hermione: '_I miss you. Same time, same place tonight?'_

As the students filed out, Draco purposefully bumped into Hermione and passed the note to her. Pretending to wait for Crabbe and Goyle, he caught Hermione's eye and she nodded, causing butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He just couldn't get enough of her, and if she looked anything like she did on the previous night spent in the RoR, then he couldn't wait to spend the best part of the night with her.


	7. Surprise

Draco sat in front of the mirror in the boys' dormitory. He was wearing light blue skinny jeans and a simple white shirt; he had put thought into his choice, but didn't want to seem too forthcoming. Spraying himself with his favourite cologne, he stepped out into the cold Slytherin common room.

The night gave the common room another depth of eeriness. Moonlight reflected off the solitary mirror hanging over the fireplace, and portraits stirred in their slumber. Draco made his way through the room, footsteps echoing on the grey slabs beneath his feet.

As he neared the wooden door that signalled his freedom, he heard a sharp intake of breath that wasn't his. He surveyed the room and saw no-one. Cursing his over active imagination, he continued towards the door, but was stopped by a figure that slid in front of him.

'Where are you going?' Pansy breathed, placing a hand on Draco's arm. Her touch made his skin crawl, and he shrugged her off.

'What does it matter to you?' he replied harshly, shooting her a dark look. Pansy, however, did not seem fazed and stepped closer, so that their bodies were mere inches apart.

'You matter to me Draco' she pouted, suggestively placing her face closer to his. Draco pulled a face with disgust and dodged out of her way.

'What I do and where I go is none of your business Pansy. You would do well to remember that' he snarled, then turned on his heels and stalked away, leaving Pansy teary eyed and more than a little bit confused.

When Draco arrived at the Room of Requirement, he discovered it to be already open. Carefully, he withdrew his wand from his jeans pocket and held it aloft. Opening the door slowly and silently, he walked through the bookshelves lining the entrance of the makeshift library.

'Homenum revelio' he whispered. A presence forced itself upon him, proving to him that there was indeed a person here. He edged forward, wary; looking for any movements. He rounded the corner to the open space littered with cushions and saw Hermione sitting down, with a pile of books next to her and 'Blood Brothers: My Life Among The Vampires' by Eldred Worple laying open at her feet. Draco cautiously lowered his wand and sank onto a comfortable plush cushion.

'You're late,' said Hermione, a chill in her voice. Draco's immediate thought was to tell her how beautiful she looked, because it was true; her hair was scraped up into a French twist and she wore a simple blue jumpsuit with a flower pinned to it. But, reasoning with himself, he decided that that was probably not the best way to win her back.

'I'm.. I'm sorry.'

Her head snapped up in surprise, her lips forming a perfect 'o' as she stared at him in disbelief.

'No excuses? No sarcastic comments?' Draco shook his head. 'Draco.. you're like a whole different person. I like it.' A small smile played upon her lips.

'I'm only like this when I'm with you.' Draco felt the blush come into his cheeks before it got there. He looked away, not wanting to embarrass himself, but Hermione was too quick. She tilted his head back so he was facing her, and gently stroked his cheek. Her touch made Draco's skin tingle, and he never wanted it to stop.

'You're so beautiful' he breathed, unable to contain within himself his feelings. 'I feel so privileged, you're kind, and beautiful and everything that's good in the world and I'm.. not'

'No, no, no! You mustn't believe that Draco, never! ' Hermione shifted herself onto a better position, and touched both of Draco's cheeks so he was looking directly at her. 'If you believe that, it will come true. And you're sweet when you're with me Draco. And it's perfect.'

She leant forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips. The touch between them ignited a spark inside of Draco, and he immediately responded, pulling her onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her. '_This feels so right' _he thought, with one hand entwined in her auburn hair and the other placed protectively in the small of her back. She smelt delicious, a mixture of perfume and shampoo and all things heavenly.

A boom echoed throughout the room. Pulling away, Hermione looked at Draco, startled.

'That sounded like the door,' breathed Draco, once again withdrawing his wand. 'Hide' he urged, and shooed her into a dark corner where she was well hidden.

'Who's there?' His voiced echoed in the spacious room, scaring him a little bit.

'Oh. So this is where you come to play?'

Pansy stepped out from between the bookshelves, and began to walk slowly towards him with an extremely suggestive look on her face.


End file.
